


Right Here

by nyeh413peasants



Series: SPN Fluff Bingo [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Detailed Self-Harm, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mental Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Protective Jensen Ackles, Self-Harm, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 10:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13925442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyeh413peasants/pseuds/nyeh413peasants
Summary: When you fall into a deep depression and relapse, you turn to your boyfriend to help you.





	Right Here

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not trying to romanticize self-harm in this. As someone that does self-harm, I am well aware of just how serious it is. Honestly, this is kind of a vent piece for me, because part of me does want this. Sometimes all we need is a little comfort and for someone to tell us it’ll be okay. However, with that being said, if this subject is triggering to you at all, please DO NOT READ.

“You’re selfish and lazy.  It’s honestly no wonder you don’t have any friends.  We’ve tried to help you, but it’s clear you don’t want it.  I’m sorry, but there’s nothing more we can do,” your step father said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest as he stared at you.

Tears ran down your cheeks as you listened to his words.  You had tried to tell him over and over again that it wasn’t that simple.  It wasn’t that you were lazy, you were mentally ill. That was what the therapy was for, the medication, the reason why you barely left the house.  “It’s not like that,” you muttered, voice thick due to the hard lump in your throat.

Your step dad shook his head and your mother stood up from her perch on the couch, resting her hands on her hips.  “We can’t help you if you can’t help yourself. Pack up your things, we want you out of the house by this weekend.”

“That’s only two days!” you cried, standing up as well and flailing your arms.  “I have nowhere to go.”

“You always talk about the boyfriend that loves you so much, why don’t you just go to him?” she asked before waving her hand, dismissing you completely.  It was clear she wasn’t going to listen to reason, she wouldn’t care what you would say after that. It was doomed.

You rubbed at your cheeks and climbed the stairs, your head hanging.  Padding into the kitchen, you stopped, eyes hitting the knife stand and zeroing in on the pair of scissors you’d found yourself staring at a lot in the last few weeks.  You had worked so hard, but it was too much. You were ready to throw away six months without it. The need was too great and you couldn’t handle it. You needed to be punished.

Looking around the room, you quickly made sure no one was around before you grabbed the scissors and closed yourself off in your room.  Your eyes searched the small space, taking in your little belongings as the tears came again. You sunk to the floor and pulled your phone out of your pocket, checking for any messages.  Your best friend was practically nocturnal and was asleep and your boyfriend, Jensen, was busy- you knew that. He acted and why he wanted to be with someone like you, you never knew.

You saw yourself as too fat, too emotional, agoraphobic, with countless mental illnesses.  It didn’t make sense that he had fallen for you at the con you met him at. You never thought you’d be so lucky and you knew you’d only held on for so long because you didn’t want to disappoint him or your best friend.  They were your tethers. They were the ones that had pulled you from the darkness.

 However, you could feel yourself slipping right back into it.  You could feel your feet sliding out from under you and dragging you back into the pits of despair.  It made you sound weak, overdramatic and a million other things that you didn’t want to think about.

The scissors grew heavy in your hand, as if reminding you it was still there.  Tears continued rolling down your cheeks as you pulled them apart, holding the cool blade up to the flesh of your wrist and taking a deep breath as you sliced quickly.  You’d always preferred to do it quickly and then watch the blood blossom on your skin. It mesmerized you and provided the distraction you needed. You worked quickly, breath coming out in short puffs before your actions dawned on you, making the blades clatter to the floor as you let them go.

A rough sob escaped your throat as you stood up and moved to your bed, burying your face in your blankets, trying to ebb the tears away.  You tried to tell yourself that there were others going through much more than you were, that it would be okay in the end. But you’d tried to tell yourself the silver linings before.  Things got better, but only for a moment before it was all ripped away.

You knew you needed to find a place to stay, and you knew that Jensen would be more than happy to provide, but you just didn’t want to bother him.  You didn’t want to bring your family drama to him and you especially didn’t want him to know that you relapsed after being clean for so long.

But you knew you had to do something, because your parents had been serious this time.  There were no more threats, it was all a reality. They were kicking you out and there was nothing you could do about it.  You lifted your blurry phone to your face and unlocked it, sniffling as you found Jensen’s number and dialed, holding the phone up to your ear.

It didn’t take long for him to answer.  “Yeah?”

“Jensen, um, I’m sorry to bother you, but-” you stopped as another sob crawled up, forcing you to choke it back.  You could hear chatter in the background and knew he was either shooting a scene or out with his friends. A few seconds later, though, everything went quiet and a door closed in the background.

“What’s going on?” he asked gently.

You tried to figure out a way to bring it up, an easy way to put it instead of just coming out and saying it.  There was no easy way, though, you had to come right out with it. “My parents are kicking me out and I have nowhere to go.”

“Wait, what?  They’re actually kicking you out?  Are you sure it’s not another threat?” he asked, but there was a growl to his voice, and something else- fear.  You knew that there was a part of him that also knew it was real. You really were being kicked out this time.

Still, you decided to confirm.  “Yeah, they’re for sure kicking me out this time.  I have two days to find a place to go and my job doesn’t pay nearly enough for me to get my own place.  I need help, Jensen.” You covered your mouth as the lump in your throat grew stronger, forcing you to stop speaking once more.

“Fuck.  Okay. I’m at the bar right now, but I can get a plane over there right now.  It’ll take me a few hours. Are you packed?” he asked, ridding his voice of the anger and instead favoring kindness.

“No, I just found out.  I’ll start packing now,” you responded.

“Yeah, do that.  I’ll be there as soon as I can.  I love you, okay? Call me if you need anything,” he said.  You confirmed that you would before hanging up the phone, setting it aside before sitting up and looking around your room once more.  Only the necessities. That meant clothes, laptop, chargers, and cell phone. You looked at your growing book collection before tearing your eyes away.  Books were your life. They provided an escape, but you couldn’t take them. It was too much baggage to lug along, and if you were going to be staying with Jensen, you didn’t want to seem like you needed things you really didn’t.

You wiped under your nose as you stood up, grabbing your suitcase out of the closet and beginning to roll your clothes up, tossing them inside neatly.  It took two hours to make sure you had everything, but once you made sure you did, you went outside the house, sitting on the porch and setting the suitcase at your side.

As you sat there, you began growing restless, itching at your arm and shivering despite the warmth of the day.  You knew you were either on the verge of a panic attack or making yourself sick from all the stress. Either way, it wasn’t a good thing.

With a deep breath, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.  You had been trying to quit for a long time, but found that they helped the stress that came with living.  You quickly lit one up, taking a long drag and holding the smoke in your lungs before letting it out slowly.  You closed your eyes as you leaned back against the exterior of the house. You knew you needed to relax. Jensen would be there and everything would be okay.  He wouldn’t let you be homeless.

The door opened and your mother and step father came out, sitting on the porch as well and lighting up their own cigarettes.  You didn’t know if they were trying to tease you or if they wanted to talk everything out- not that the latter mattered. You’d reached the end of your rope anyway.  Finally, you were getting out.

It was your step dad that broke the silence.  “We heard your conversation on the phone. You found someone to stay with?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend who obviously gives more of a shit about me than either of you combined,” you responded sharply.  It felt good to finally say what was on your mind. For too long you had been holding back, but not anymore. You could say whatever you wanted.

“We’re doing this because we love you.  This is going to be a repeat of Theo, you know that, right?” your mother asked, leaning forward as she took a drag from her cigarette.

You shook your head.  “No, it’s not going to be like that.  Theo was manipulative and treated me like shit.  Jensen treats me like a person. He cares about me, he makes me feel like everything is going to be okay while also pushing me to do better.  I know you can’t accept that, but you’re going to think whatever you want. There’s no changing that.”

Your step dad let out a sharp laugh.  “I still don’t believe you’re with an actor.  What do you have? You don’t leave the house, you’re twenty-four and still live with your parents, you work fast food.  This guy is playing with your heart.”

You shook your head, though his words were getting to you, because you’d thought the same thing many times.  “No, Jensen loves me. You just hate me so much that you can’t accept that. Well, joke’s on you, because no one hates me as much as I hate myself.”

“See, that’s your problem.  We’re only doing this because of the love we hold for you, but you can’t expect everything to be handed to you,” your mom said.  “You’re always playing the victim. It’ll only be a matter of time before you see his true colors or he realizes exactly how you are and you’ll be crawling back here.  We’ve been right about all your other relationships.”

“Maybe, but you’re wrong about this one.  And you’re wrong about me coming back. After this, I want you to lose my number.  Don’t call me, don’t text me. You-” a jet black car pulling into the driveway made you lose your voice.  Your eyes widened as the door opened and Jensen stepped out, pulling off a pair of sunglasses as he approached you, worry in his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?” he asked, practically scooping you up in strong arms and pulling you close.  You closed your eyes as the scent of his cologne filled your nostrils and you wrapped your own arms around him tightly, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening once more, but you didn’t want your parents to see you falling apart again.  You were going to be strong about this.

You nodded in his chest, inhaling the sweet scent before pulling away and stepping off the porch, grabbing your suitcase.  Your eyes landed on your parents, who were both staring at Jensen with looks of judgement on their faces. Perhaps they did what they did out of love, but it didn’t make it any less abusive.  They had a skewed sense of love and you had to keep telling yourself that.

“Ready?” Jensen asked, taking your free hand in his.  He gave you a soft tug when you didn’t answer, pulling you toward the car.  You shook your head at your parents before turning your back on them and climbing into the car.

The A/C was blasting, making gooseflesh rise over your skin, but you didn’t care.  Jensen climbed in next to you. You felt like it had been months since you’d seen him, though you knew it had only been three- which was next to nothing for an actor.  Most dating actors didn’t see their significant others for more than that on end.

As he pulled out of the driveway without a word, your hand found his and you grabbed on tightly, giving it a squeeze as the two of you fell into silence.  You could tell he was trying to give you space, and you appreciated it because, as you drove away from your family home and to the airport, the emotion began hitting you once more.  But you were finally free and with Jensen, and that was what mattered in the moment.

\---

You nor Jensen spoke until you were at his house in Texas.  He led you inside the spacious home, carrying your suitcase in and setting it by the door before pressing himself against you, his lips crashing against yours.

You let yourself fall into the kiss, your eyes falling closed as you wrapped your arms around him, but the pain of your arm pressing against him sent you right back to reality, and you knew you needed to tell him about what you had done.  Pulling away, you cleared your throat, trying not to note the confusion and slight hurt in Jensen’s eyes.

“Sorry,” he said softly, taking a step back.

You shook your head.  “You don’t need to apologize.  There’s- there’s something I have to tell you,” you began, taking a deep breath before you dived right in, knowing- once again- that there would be no easy way to tell him about what you had done.  “I self-harmed again. I know I’ve probably disappointed you, but I got caught up in everything and I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.”

Jensen’s face softened and he came right back up to you, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realized had started falling again.  “Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize for that. Does it hurt knowing you’ve started that up again? Yes, but I’m not going to fault you for it.  You said yourself that there are going to be relapses, so why would I be angry or disappointed?”

“I love you so much,” you whispered, pulling up to him and burying your face in his chest.  He didn’t seem to mind that you were getting the front of his gray shirt soaked through. He just held you close, letting you get everything out and rubbing your back as you did so.

When you finally calmed down enough, he pulled you back slightly.  “Why don’t we go up to my room?”

You nodded, wiping at your cheeks and letting yourself be led up to his room.  You’d never seen Jensen’s house and you wanted to explore, if anything to get your mind off of everything that had happened, but you wanted to follow him more as your curiosity was peaking.  You wanted to see what he had planned. That alone was enough to get your mind off of some of what had gone on.

Once in his room, he gently pushed you onto the bed, tucking you in before climbing on top of the duvet and laying next to you, pulling you close once more.  You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart. “Choose a song,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, quirking a brow.  “Huh?”

He chuckled softly.  “A song. I know you like my singing, do you think I don’t check your Twitter and see the mushy posts you say about me?”

A blush crept over your cheeks as you looked away.  “Oh, um. If you’ve read through my Twitter posts, then you should know what song I want you to sing,” you said, the first smile in quite awhile forming on your face.

“God, you’re such a fangirl.   _ Carry On Wayward Son _ it is,” he said with a chuckle.  Jensen then cleared his throat, moving his fingers through your hair as he began to sing.  The smile on your face only grew as he did so and your eyes closed as exhaustion crept through your body.

You fisted his shirt as if to make sure he wasn’t some sort of mirage you had conjured up to make your difficult life easier, but he felt real, he smelled real, and damn did he sound real.  As imaginative as you were, you knew that you yourself couldn’t conjure up such an image. The smile stayed on your lips as he worked his way through the song, hitting every note perfectly.

Nuzzling his chest, you began to fall into the throes of sleep, holding onto Jensen’s shirt for dear life as he finished the song and kissed the top of your head.  “I love you so much. I’ll be here when you wake up and stay for as long as you need me.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek as sleep took over your body completely, but it wasn’t a tear of sadness.  Quite the opposite. It was a tear of finally feeling at home, of finding where you had belonged. And if that didn’t make living worth it, you weren’t sure what did.

 


End file.
